A Story of Healing and Resilience
I dreamt of a golden figure that shone at the bottom of the pool into which I sank like a stone. Glowing and radiant, its rippled and patterned form shimmered in the water. In its light, I saw my own reflection—trapped, longing to rise to the surface, to breathe fresh air, to step into the world beyond these walls. The god sat cross-legged, pulsating with an energy that warmed me and lifted me to the surface before I drowned.
I turned the handle, and the door swung open as the shape-changer attacked with a hammer fist, its face a blur of contorted rage. The evil spread from his misshapen hand, threatening to drag me back. I threw down the seed. A stem shot up like a firework, tall and lanky, it thinned as it grew; green, slender, and bulbous at the crown. Its growth mirrored the courage I sought, each inch reminding me that hope bloomed even in the darkest moments. It exploded into a beautiful flower.
The world was beautiful, no ugliness remained. It was safe, so I thought about the journey ahead. It was the same as yesterday. I tentatively stepped over the threshold and out into the open, celebrating the light and clarity.
As I stepped out a dark vision flashed and vanished. The edges of my reality began to curl, and the decay started to form as doubt spread through me like a terminal disease. I dropped my eyes, bent my head to the floor and waited for the axe to swing and bring an end to this irritating headache.
I was nearly lost, yet I hadn’t reached the gate. The path stretched before me, daring me to take the next step. I grimaced, put the mask in place, smiled and stepped out.
Text by The Unnamed Survivor
